


some things must remain unsaid

by rainbowinthesky



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Anal Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowinthesky/pseuds/rainbowinthesky
Summary: Speirs doesn’t know why he cares so much. He never really cares about his fellow soldiers, because this is war after all. You can’t make friends here, because sooner or later they are going to die or get wounded so bad it’ll haunt you forever. But Carwood Lipton is something else. You can not not like that guy. Lipton is gentle, caring and above all, the best friend you can have in a fucking war.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	some things must remain unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this saved somewhere in my drafts since 2010 but never got around to posting it. Just posted it accidentally, started panicking and wanted to delete it right away. But I guess I’ll leave it here and hope someone likes it.

He’d watched Lipton cough for the last few days - or maybe even weeks, he doesn’t even count the days anymore since they got stuck in this war – and it’s killing Speirs to see the First Sergeant and soon to be Lieutenant like that. Now that they finally have a roof over their heads, he isn’t going to stand for it anymore. As soon as he’ll have the chance, he is going to order Lip to go to bed. 

Speirs doesn’t know why he cares so much. He never really cares about his fellow soldiers, because this is war after all. You can’t make friends here, because sooner or later they are going to die or get wounded so bad it’ll haunt you forever. But Carwood Lipton is something else. You can not not like that guy. Lipton is gentle, caring and above all, the best friend you can have in a fucking war. Speirs found out he can count on the Sergeant no matter how bad it gets. 

Speirs watches Lipton on the couch, just after he’d dismissed Lieutenant Jones and Private Webster and he sees how Lipton’s eyes drop closed. He’s trying to stay awake, Speirs can tell. Now would be a good time to send him to bed. 

“First Sergeant Lipton,” Speirs grunts.

Opening his eyes slowly, Lipton blinks and stares at Speirs like he’s drugged and high. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“You’ve done enough for today. You’re going to bed.” 

Lipton opens his mouth. Most likely to protest, but Speirs wasn’t having it.

“You’re sick, Lipton. You need to get better.” 

Lipton grimaces at him. “But sir, there’s still so much to do and organize. I can’t leave the guys alone.”

Speirs is not surprised at that answer. In fact, he’d anticipated it and he already has his reply ready.

“You’ll be no good to the men if you’re dead, Sergeant.” 

Seeing Lipton’s eyes widen at that, makes Speirs sigh. “I know you don’t want to rest, Carwood, but you have to. We can’t lose you.”

Something flickers in Lipton’s eyes and after a long moment, he finally nods.

“I guess I could rest for a while. Just. I don’t know where?”

“You’ll be staying in my room tonight,” Speirs says.

Lipton frowns. “Your room, sir?”

“Yes. It’s upstairs. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

The frown on Lipton’s face gets deeper. “But sir, that’s not right. I should be staying on the floor.”

Speirs sighs again, this time in frustration. Why does Lipton take everything so seriously? Why is he so fucking humble? He really shouldn’t be. Speirs doesn’t give a shit about ranks and certainly not today. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake, I don’t fucking care if it’s _right_. You’re sick. You are taking the bed.” 

A tiny smile appears on Lipton’s face. “Is that an order, sir?”

“Damn right it is. Come on, I’ll show you the room.”

Once Lipton is finally in bed and under the covers, Speirs feels pretty accomplished. He had not expected it would go so easy. Usually Lipton is much harder to convince, but Speirs figures that Lipton knows he’s right. And his point is proven once again when they both hear a rumble and rattle and it’s coming from Lipton’s chest.

“Rest,” Speirs says as he leaves the room.

Around 4 am, after the patrol and the death of Jackson, Speirs opens the door to his room as quietly as he can. He’s welcomed by a loud snore and squeaking breaths. The moonlight is shining in the room and he can see Lipton sweating under the covers. His hair is soaking wet and his face is bright red. Every now and then, a thrill of cold goes through his body. Speirs shakes his head and prays that Lipton will be alright. Not only for Lip and the men, but for himself too. He can’t lose the only friend he has in this war.

Speirs sits on the floor, next to the bed and carefully lays his hand on Lipton’s forehead. He’s really warm and it worries Speirs. He pulls back when he hears Lipton’s voice.

“Sir?”

“Get back to sleep,” Speirs whispers harshly.

Lipton, as usual, kind of ignores him. “Did everything go ok on the patrol?”

Speirs almost wants to laugh. Typical Lipton, worrying about the men when he should be worrying over getting better.

“Yes and no. Took two prisoners, just like Colonel Sink had requested, but we lost one man.”

When Lipton tries to sit up, Speirs pushes him back immediately. “Lay down,” he orders.

“Who was it?” 

“Jackson.”

“Fuck.” Lipton starts to cough and wheeze and he almost doubles over from the force of it. Speirs awkwardly waits it out, kind of wanting to comfort Lip by putting his hand on his back but he doesn’t know how Lip would react to that so he doesn’t.

“Go back to sleep,” he says instead once Lipton has caught his breath and everything is quiet again. Lipton nods and closes his eyes. He’s sleeping in seconds. It takes a little longer for Speirs.

The next days comes early. Speirs has barely slept, but he’s used to that. Soldiers can’t really rest in war - he’s learned that the hard way in Bastogne. He takes one long look at Lipton and decides to let him sleep. He’s not useful now anyway, so why wake the man when he finally looks so peaceful?

He joins Luz and Perconte at breakfast, if you can call it that. It’s just some very hard bread with some sugar on it. But he takes it anyway. After Bois Jacques, everything tastes like heaven. Luz asks him about Lipton and wonders out loud how long it will take for him to get better.

“Yeah, he seemed pretty out of it yesterday,” Perconte says.

“Out of it? Looked like he was about to pass out. Poor guy. Just hope he’s better by the time we land in Germany. I mean, we are going to Germany, right sir?”

Luz turns to Speirs, who is not really paying attention. He’s still thinking about Lipton and how warm he was last night.

“Right, sir?”

Speirs snaps out of it and says, “Right what?”

“We are going to Germany?”

Speirs resists the urge to roll his eyes. He’s heard the question so many times now and he just doesn’t know. “Eventually, I think. There’s just no way of knowing for sure, Sergeant Luz.”

Luz hums and nods his acknowledge. “Well, Lip has to get better either way. Cause who else is going to mother us when he’s sick?”

Perconte grins at that and Speirs kind of wants to, too. And Luz is right. Lipton is like the big older brother for his company. Everyone respects him and he takes such good care of them. Always making sure that everyone has everything they need. More surprisingly, Lipton is not afraid of him. And Speirs likes that. He likes that very much.

After talking to Winters and giving the men orders for patrols, he checks on Lipton again. It’s 10am and he’s still sleeping soundly. First thing he notices when he steps into the room, is that the rattle in Lip’s chest has almost disappeared. It’s still there, but it’s not as obvious as it was before. He checks Lipton’s forehead again and he’s not sweating anymore. Speirs frowns, can’t really explain it. Just a few hours before, the man had a terrible fever. It seems strange that it had gone so quickly. 

When he withdraws his hand, he sees Lipton watching him with small amusement in his face. Speirs smiles tightly and nods at him.

“Good morning,” he says, feeling a little awkward. “How are you feeling?”

Lipton sits up, the bedcovers still all around him and he draws his knees up to his chest.

“Well rested.” He smiles at Speirs while he says it, gratitude clear on his face. “And my fever seems to be gone.”

“I noticed that. You should see a doctor. I’ll get Roe.”

Speirs can tell that Roe does not really believe him when he tells him that Lipton seems to be better. But even Roe has to admit that Lip does look better and more energetic. Roe insists on getting a real doctor to check for sure and thirty minutes later they’re all scratching their heads in wonder.

“This is a miracle, Sergeant Lipton,” the doc says. “It seems like your fever is completely gone, and that goes for the pneumonia too. I do, however, suggest that you take it easy for the next couple of days. Make sure to get rest every now and then. If you don’t, there’s a large chance that the pneumonia might get back.”

Lipton nods, but Speirs can already see the wheels in is head turning and rolling around, already trying to make up for lost time.

“You heard what the doc said,” Speirs says sternly. 

Lipton has a guilty look on his face. “Yes sir. I’ll uh, I’ll try?”

This time Speirs does smile at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get the rest you need.”

Lipton smiles back and it still surprises Speirs to see his face change so dramatically when he does. They all joke that Lipton is the mother hen of the company and it’s true. But all joking aside, it also means that Lipton caries a lot of worries with him and it always shows on his face. A deep frown on a thoughtful face. 

As it turns out, Speirs does indeed has to order Lipton to rest several times. And Lipton always obeys him, though he’s not happy that Speirs is doing the mothering now. Speirs often catches Lipton looking at him, like he’s alien and doesn’t know what to think of him. Speirs understands, he’s not sure he even gets himself anymore. 

He tells himself he just wants to take care of Lipton like Lipton did for the men and him. He wants to reward Lipton for all the times he’s put himself in danger just to save the rest of them. He wants to let Lip know that he’s appreciated and that they care about him. But if Speirs is honest with himself, there’s also a deeper reason of why he does it. A reason he’s absolutely not thinking about, can’t let himself think about, because it would ruin everything they have.

After two weeks Lipton is his old self again. The wheezing is now completely gone and he seems more energetic than ever. Speirs had watched with great pride when Lipton got promoted and he saw the glowing look and wistful smile on Lipton’s face. 

Since Lipton got sick, Speirs made sure that they always share a room when they’re sleeping in a house. Something the other boys frown upon sometimes, but he doesn’t care. Now that Speirs has made Captain and Lipton is his First Lieutenant, they are working very closely together. Speirs has a lot of meetings with him and discovers that Lip is incredibly smart. Why he wasn’t promoted sooner he’ll never know and get.

They’d sort of made a pact on who sleeps on the floor and who takes the bed. Lipton still protests every single fucking time when Speirs takes the floor, but he should know better now. To keep Lipton satisfied, he’d suggested that they’d take turns on the bed and Lipton had reluctantly agreed. 

Tonight it’s Speirs’ turn for the bed and he’s laying on it with his back resting against the wall, overlooking some papers and maps. When Lipton comes in and closes the door behind him, he puts those papers away.

“You done playing mommy?” he smirks.

“Shut up,” Lipton grumbles.

No one talks like that to Ronald Speirs, but Lipton does. 

“Luz wouldn’t stop making jokes. I hate to say it, but he’s far too funny for his own good,” Lipton says with a grin on his face and sits down next to the bed, already rolling out his sleeping bag. 

“Luz is just plain crazy,” Speirs says. “But he’s not too bad. He’s good for the other men. They need some laughter here.”

Lipton looks up at him, surprise showing a little in his face.

“What?” Speirs says, amused. “You really think I don’t see what these men need? You think I don’t care?”

Blinking, Lipton shakes his head no. “No sir, that’s not it. I know you care. I’m just surprised you said it out loud.”

“How many times have I told you to stop with the sir crap when we’re alone or with other officers? Jesus Christ.” Speirs pauses, smiling a little at Lipton. “I know what each men is capable off and I appreciate what they do. I’m just not really the guy who actually says it out loud. I guess I’m a difficult man sometimes, but you should know that I’m really trying to do what’s best for the company and the men.”

“I have absolutely no doubts about that, si-Ron.” Lipton flushes a little. He’d said once that he felt weird calling Speirs by his first name to which Speirs had said that he’d no problem calling him Carwood, so what was the problem? “I know you mean well. The men know, too. After what you did in Foy you are like a God to them. You’re a good leader.”

Before Speirs has the chance to wave it away, Lipton interrupts him. “You should take a compliment for once, Captain,” he grins. Speirs can’t help it but smile back. Lipton and his smile just have that effect on him.

“I could say the same about you.”

Lipton looks at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re too humble sometimes. When I told you that you have been the leader of Easy since Dike took over, you just nodded and didn’t really believe me.” Speirs hesitates for a moment, but thinks it might be good for Lipton to hear it and for himself to say it. “I have often wondered why they didn’t make you the leader of Easy. It might have something to do with inexperience, but that’s just on paper. You’ve led those man every single day in Bastogne and you did it exceptionally well.” Oh man, how he loves the blush forming on Lipton’s face. “I don’t really have friends here, but I’m glad you’re in my company.”

The blush is still there, but Lipton has a serious look on his face. “You do have friends here, Ron.”

He doesn’t say it, but Speirs doesn’t have to hear it. _Me_.

Just before they leave to go to Germany, something happens that might make Lipton change his mind about the friends part. Or, rather Speirs’ mind. Lipton doesn’t have a clue what’s wrong or what happened exactly that made Speirs avoid him.

The evening before they’re expected to pack their stuff and move out, Speirs steps into the room and catches Lipton completely off guard. The man is naked as the day he was born, about to change into another uniform (which is just as dirty as the one he wore before, but it’s the thought that counts – this one was just a little more cleaner.) and he’s stumbling over his words.

“Oh uh…hey, Ron. I uh…”

Speirs just stands there frozen for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. Lip still has bruises from fights all over his body, his scar on his thigh very visible and yet. Yet he might just be the most gorgeous thing Speirs has ever seen. 

And when that thought enters his mind, he flees from the room, leaving a confused and horrified Lipton behind. He’s almost running out of the house and stops when he sees a tree. He lets himself drop to the dirty ground beneath him and leans his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. 

The next few days, weeks even, Speirs avoids Lipton whenever he can. They’re working together, so obviously they meet on occasion when they need to discuss strategy or working around the orders they get. But Speirs avoids any contact alone with the man. And mostly he lets Luz share a room with Lip. Lipton stares at him sometimes, when he thinks Speirs isn’t looking and the confused and slightly hurt look in his eyes doesn’t get unnoticed by Speirs. He feels ashamed that he lets his friend be in the dark, but it’s just the way it has to be. There’s no way that Speirs can tell him about the _why_.

When they finally get to Germany, it feels like the end of the war. And in some ways it is. The men are having a lot of fun with all the booze they find here and Speirs thinks _what the hell_ and gets comfortable on the balcony of the Eagles Nest with Nixon and Welsh and a bottle of whiskey. He can’t even remember how many drinks he’s had, but he’s already seeing double, so it must be a lot. Nixon and Welsh are babbling about everything and nothing, both slurring and just speaking nonsense. Welsh is wobbling on his feet and he has this lazy, stupid smile on his face. Speirs just sits and drinks and doesn’t listen. 

He jerks awake when he hears Welsh’s loud voice. “Hey Adolf! Love your Eagles Nest. I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home.”

Speirs looks up and first sees Winters, then Lipton. He slurs, “Lieutenant Lipton,” and grins up at him. Lipton smiles back, although a bit tightly.

Welsh is being his idiotic self and Speirs loves the sweet smile that forms on Lipton’s face. When Winters tells them that the German Army has surrendered, all Speirs can do is look up drunkenly. He doesn’t feel anything, really. He’d always thought he’d feel happiness, but there’s nothing he feels right now. 

Before he even blinks, Winters and Nixon are gone and Welsh is hugging Lipton. Then he blinks again and Welsh is nowhere to be seen. Lipton is looking at the mountains and comments on how beautiful they are. Speirs doesn’t answer, he’s busy looking at Lipton’s back and wondering what he should say to the man now that they’re alone. The air is hot and Speirs can smell his own sweat. There’s a long uncomfortable silence; Speirs prays that Lipton won’t say anything.

“You are avoiding me,” Lipton states. Speirs is silent – he doesn’t have to answer because they both know it’s true. 

“I thought we were…” Lipton hesitates for a moment before he continues. “I thought we were friends.”

He has turned to Speirs now, looking him right in the eyes. The gentle brown eyes almost spitting fire, demanding to know what’s going on. Speirs is still very much drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands up and grabs at Lipton’s jacket. It’s not a firm grip – his hands won’t do what he wants – but Lipton is trapped anyway.

“You really want to know, huh?” He spits at Lipton. When Lipton nods, albeit a bit uncertain, Speirs gets in his face, his breath probably reeking but he doesn’t care. The alcohol is making him reckless and he just lets it all loose. 

“What I want from you is more than being just friends, Lieutenant. And you should _hate_ me for it. So, shut up about being friends, you ought to be glad that I’m avoiding you.”

He wants to say more, but his brain catches up with his mouth and he snaps it shut. He lets Lipton go and shakes his head before sitting down again. Speirs rests his elbows on his knees and buries his hands in his hair, almost shaking. 

Then, unexpectedly, he feels another hand in his hair and he looks up, confused. Lipton had a tiny, secret smile on his face. Then he nods at Speirs and walks away from him, leaving Speirs bewildered and confused. 

They do not speak about what happened in the following days. Lipton probably thinks that Speirs can’t even remember and Speirs is perfectly ok with that. Since the war is over and they’re in Austria, they all have too much time on their hands. Too much time to drink, prank and think. The latter is driving Speirs crazy. He wishes that they could be send home and that he’d never see or think about Carwood Lipton ever again. 

On one lazy afternoon, Speirs is lounging on the grass, looking at the guys playing baseball. He’d just lit a cigarette and watches with amusement at how the men are taking this game quite seriously. They yell and curse at each other when one (Luz mostly) messes it up. He hears, rather than sees, Lipton sitting next to him. He doesn’t acknowledge his presence and continues to watch the game absentmindedly. 

As always, it seems lately, Lipton speaks first. “Who’s winning?”

Speirs chuckles at that. “Luz’s team definitely not.”

Lipton grins at him, his eyes sparkling. Speirs is glad to see it has returned. They’re both silent for a while, watching the game and enjoying the sun on their faces. 

“Sir?” Lipton asks after a minute. Speirs looks up at him sharply and Lipton smiles at him for that.

“I mean, Ron. I…I wanted to ask you something.”

Speirs can guess what’s coming and he feels nauseated. He nods tightly at Lipton to go on anyway; he deserves as much.

“Do you remember what you said in Berchtesgaden?”

It must show on his face that he _does_ remember, because Lipton looks at him knowingly. 

“Yes, I do,” he grunts out. He looks straight at Lipton then, almost challenging him, but Lipton is already forming new words. 

“I thought about what you said a lot since then,” Lipton says softly. “You said I ought to hate you. But… I don’t.”

Speirs raises his eyebrows at him. “You don’t?” 

“I don’t,” Lipton assures him.

“Why not?” he asks, his voice a little hoarse. And is that _hope_ that rises within him?

Lipton seems to be thinking about that for a moment, a wistful look on his face. 

“I don’t hate you because I feel the same,” Lipton finally says. 

They get to the hotel in record time. Speirs doesn’t have to share his room with anyone here and he’s never been gladder to have a room that’s all his. Once the door is shut, he slams Lipton against the wood. Speirs stares hard in to his eyes, looking for doubts but doesn’t find any. 

“Are you sure about this, Carwood? Cause I’m not stopping once we start, you got that?”

Lipton stares right back at him, not backing down in the slightest and he gives Speirs a firm nod. And that’s all the conformation Speirs needs. Their first kiss is desperate, needy and brutal. They’re clinging to each others jackets, Speirs holding on to Lipton’s waist and Lipton gripping Speirs’ chest in firm fists. Spit is running down their chins, but Speirs isn’t really paying attention to that. All he can think about is _finally_. 

After a minute of furious kissing, Speirs lets go and begins undressing himself. Lipton watches with wide eyes for a second and then starts to follow Speirs’ lead. In no time, they’re both naked and standing before each other. Speirs lets his eyes roam freely over Lipton’s body and he doesn’t even care that he’s so obvious in his desire. When he finally lets his eyes go up to Lipton’s face, Speirs finds him doing the same. He’s taking in Speirs carefully, almost as if in trance. Speirs can only imagine what a sight he must make. He’s already so goddamn hard, he’s about to burst, erection dripping with his need. He snaps his fingers and it echoes in the quite room. Lipton looks up immediately and grins at him. 

“Get on the bed,” Speirs orders, arousal heavy in his voice. 

Lipton goes eagerly, lying on his back with his legs spread a little, flushed from head to toe and just as aroused as Speirs is. Speirs crawls over him and takes his mouth in a deep kiss again, this time letting his hands wander all over Lipton’s body. His fingers trace the outline of Lipton’s scar on his thigh, so dangerously close to his groin and Lipton moans into the kiss, bucking his hips a little. Speirs knows what he’s trying to do and decides to let him wait a little. 

“Have patience,” Speirs whispers against Lipton’s mouth. 

Lipton seems to be grumbling something, but Speirs can’t make out what he’s saying. He pulls back and arches his eyebrow at Lipton. “What was that?”

“I said, _fuck patience_. I’ve waited far too long for this. My patience is gone, Captain.”

Speirs chuckles and he wonders how he could have missed Lipton’s desire for him all this time. And he knows Lipton is right, why wait when he can have Lipton _now_.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Fuck patience.”

Lipton wiggles underneath him and starts to turn over, but Speirs holds him back. 

“What are you doing?” Speirs asks.

“Uh. Turning over?”

“Well. Don’t. I want to see you, at least while I am preparing you,” he says.

Speirs has done this before, a time or two. He knows it will be easier for Lipton if they do it with Lipton on his hands and knees and maybe, once Lipton is used to it, he can turn Lipton over on his back and fuck him like that. Christ.

Lipton brings him out his reverie by asking, “Preparing me?”

Speirs positively leers at the man before him and nods his head. 

“Yeah, open you up a little. For this.” He grabs Lipton’s hand and guides it to his cock. He’s still hard as rock and hisses when he feels Lipton’s fingers close around him. Lipton’s mouth opens on a gasp when he feels the hot length in his hand and he frowns a little when he looks at it. 

“Don’t worry,” Speirs grins at him. “It _is_ going to fit. But we do need to open you up or else it’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch.”

He looks around for something to they can use as lube. Gun oil would do just fine – that he knows from experience, too – and he gets up to retrieve it from his bag. Finding it, he quickly returns to bed where Lipton is still waiting for him. 

“You’ve done this before?” Lipton asks, curiosity lacing in his voice.

“Yes,” Speirs answers matter of factly. “And I’m guessing you haven’t.”

With red blossoming in his face, Lipton shakes his head. Speirs just grins at him and attacks Lipton’s mouth again. Grinding his hips against Lipton’s - and still kissing him – Speirs makes sure his fingers are well coated with the oil and then lets them trail to Lipton’s hole. Lipton’s whole body tenses when he feels the Speirs’ middle finger rub against him. 

“Relax, Carwood,” Speirs whispers hotly. “Trust me.”

Lipton laughs shakily. “Christ. I _do_.”

“Good.” 

Speirs wraps his other hand around Lipton’s dick to distract him and then shoves his finger inside in one smooth move. Lipton immediately contracts around the invading finger and lets out a harsh grunt. He looks up at Speirs with wide surprised eyes when Speirs wiggles his fingers in him, finding the spot right away. Speirs grins knowingly at him and keeps going, adding another finger. When he feels that Lipton is ready for more, he slides them out and asks Lipton, “You ready for it?”

When Lipton nods, Speirs nudges his side, urging him to turn over. Once he’s comfortable on his belly, Speirs climbs over him and puts his mouth near his ear. 

“Let me know if it’s too much.”

Lipton nods again and clutches the sheet in his fist, apparently expecting the worst. Speirs takes a deep breath and then pushes in carefully, inch by inch. Lipton groans in pain underneath him and Speirs soothes him by sliding his hand up and down on Lipton’s flank. He bends down when he’s all the way in, his mouth close to Lipton’s ear and moans. 

“Carwood,” Speirs groans harshly. “Relax. Jesus Christ.”

With a nod (always nodding, that man) Lipton tries to relax as best as he can. And Speirs can feel the moment he finally surrenders; Lipton arches a bit and lets out a shocked moan when he feels Speirs pressing on that spot again. Then he arches some more and Speirs knows he can finally move now. He starts slowly, just sliding in and out at a lazy pace and he loses himself for a moment; looking at the place where they’re joined and he doesn’t hold back on making noises too. 

Lipton feels amazing – the best Speirs has ever felt. He’s warm, tight, responsive to every move Speirs makes and he’s just so… _Carwood Lipton_. 

When Speirs moves in a little harder, he earns a loud groan from Lipton underneath him, who’s clutching the sheets in tight fists now and just gasping constantly, swearing quietly under his breath and the sight and sounds coming from Lipton are making Speirs impossibly harder. Speirs moves one hand from Lipton’s hip and places it on Lipton’s cock, dripping with his need and Lipton’s body shudders all over from the light caress. 

“Jesus,” Speirs swears and he pulls out suddenly. Lipton looks over his shoulder, bewildered and almost angry that Speirs stopped. 

“Get on your back.”

Lipton obeys immediately, seemingly very eager to continue. Speirs doesn’t even give him time to situate himself – he’s already on Lipton, his hands on Lipton’s thighs to spread him open and he fucks back inside with one hard trust. It makes Lipton shudder again and Speirs looks down at him and it’s very hard not to start coming right now. Lipton’s eyes are closed tightly, his hands are on Speirs’ shoulders and his lips are moving – making soundless words. Speirs feels the corners of his mouth curl up; his quiet Carwood Lipton is finally giving up control and he is _letting_ Speirs take care of him. 

“Carwood.” It’s a gentle nudge for Lipton to open his eyes. And when he does, Speirs is treated with one of his small grins and it’s telling Speirs that Lipton is so enjoying and loving this. 

“You’re loving this, don’t you?” Speirs grins back at him. 

“You bet, _Ron_.”

Jesus, the way he slurs his first name… Damn him. 

It’s all becoming a little too much and Speirs knows he can’t hold out for much longer. He’s moving quicker now, pace picking up until he’s pounding Lipton into the bed. Speirs buries his head in Lipton’s neck and curls his hand around Lipton’s dick again, tugging at it in the same rhythm as his hips. 

“Fuck,” Lipton hisses. “Oh god.”

Speirs sucks and licks on Lipton’s neck and before he knows it, Lipton is blowing his load, the thick white semen soaking Speirs’ hand and both of their bellies. Speirs shifts a little so he can see Lipton’s face and it’s slack with pleasure, his eyes at half mast and he’s looking at Speirs like he can’t believe what’s happening right now. Speirs keeps fucking him through it, enjoying the delicious tight spasms around his cock. And Lipton just keeps looking at him with those damn patient brown eyes. 

Then it _is_ too much and Speirs can’t do anything to stop the massive orgasm that is ripping through him. He leaves open mouthed kisses on Lipton’s lips and shudders and groans his way through his climax, filling Lipton up completely. 

When his hips finally stop moving and he can think clearly again, he pulls out carefully and drops his tired body next to Lipton. 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Lipton smiles softly at him, looking a little unsure as to what to do now. 

Speirs bets he’s thinking about leaving, that he thinks that Speirs wants him to leave now that he’s got what he wanted. 

“You’re not allowed to leave, Carwood. Not now,” he says, smirking. 

Lipton chuckles, but still seems uncomfortable. 

“What is it?” Speirs asks.

A fine blush spreads on Lipton’s face. “I… Uhm. I should get cleaned up. It’s… Uh.”

Speirs suddenly understands and nods, barely able to keep the proud shit eating grin off his face. It must feel gross to Lipton, though, so he offers to help him. 

“No, no, it’s alright. I think I can manage,” Lipton quickly says and awkwardly steps out of bed. He returns a few minutes later, still stark naked and Speirs hands him his underwear which he takes gratefully. 

Speirs lights up a cigarette and hands one to Lipton when he’s in bed again, tucked under the covers. There’s a comfortable silence, both lurking at theirs cigarettes and puffing out the smoke. 

“What made you start to smoke?” Speirs asks, curious for he never expected someone like Lipton to smoke. Lipton looks at him thoughtfully and the worried wrinkle on his forehead appears again, which makes Speirs regret asking the question. 

“It was in Bastogne. After Muck and Penkala got hit. Luz lit one and I just thought, to hell with it. I needed something to take my mind off the shit that’s been happening to us.”

Speirs nods, taking another hit and sighs. “How’s Malarkey holding up?”

“He seems bitter now. Not as happy and carefree as he was before.”

Speirs can only imagine what he would feel if he’d lost Lipton there. Or if he lost him now. 

When they’re done smoking, Speirs lies down on his back and looks at Lipton. 

“Come on, lets sleep.”

They each take a side and they don’t snuggle. Not at first. But when Speirs wakes up in the middle of the night he finds himself plastered at Lipton’s side. He considers moving away for a moment, but then decides he doesn’t care if anyone finds them sleeping this way.

They do not talk about what will happen after the war. They both know that they probably won’t see each other again. They have wives and children to return to. But Ronald Speirs will always remember Carwood Lipton. He was the first real friend and lover he ever had.

_~fin_


End file.
